


Boy

by zoeburchard



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Character Study, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unconventional, Underage Drinking, mostly thoughtful, tw mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeburchard/pseuds/zoeburchard
Summary: Inspired by the song Boy by WILLOWTheo writes a collection of letters to his mom as a way to feel closer to her. Through writing his letters he discovers things about himself, about him and Boris.
Relationships: Theodore Decker & Boris Pavlikovsky, Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

_September 16th_

_Dear Mom,_

_Today I met a boy. I haven’t really tried making friends since coming to Vegas. You know I’ve never been very outgoing, but now I just want to get through the day, get home and listen to music, talking to as few people along the way as possible. Anyways, so I met a boy today. I think we might be friends._

_The first time I saw him was in English class. He immediately stood out from everyone else, dressed in all black, head to toe. He has these really torn up, heavy boots that look like they might be too big for him. Black bracelets up his arms and I think he may have used a sharpie to color his nails black. God, it sounds like I’m describing some weird goth kid. He’s not really like that though. I suppose from the neck down he gives that impression, but there is something about him, Mom. He’s different. It’s like he’s a magnet that pulls everything towards him. But then he’s just standoffish enough to keep people at a distance?_

_He looked really cool and I didn’t think he would want to be my friend. Like I said, I wasn’t really looking for friends anyways. I just wanted to go through my days at school unnoticed, under the radar. But Boris kind of does whatever he wants. And I guess he wanted to be my friend. Oh yeah! His name is Boris. He’s from everywhere and his accent is really weird and his English is kind of bad but I understand him okay._

_I’m not sure why but he sat down next to me on the bus. He didn’t know my name so he called me Potter, like from the Harry Potter books? You remember reading the first one with me? I got a little scared, but you were there and that made it better._

_Anyways- he called me Potter. Actually, he might not know my name because he only called me Potter the rest of the day? It was weird but sort of endearing._

_We like the same music. He invited me over after school. And— don’t be mad, Mom. We drank beer and talked about, well, everything, but a lot about you. He’s really easy to talk to. And his mom… she’s gone too. We shared my earbuds and listened to music from my iPod. He likes all the sad songs best. I think I do too._

_Oh! I gotta go, Mom! Boris is trying to go swimming with Popchik (that’s what Boris calls Popper) in the pool._

_Love you,_

_Theo_

________________________________________

_November 10th_

_Hi Mom!_

_So I told you about my nightmares. I have them all the time. Boris has gotten used to me waking up in the middle of the night. He always calms me down. Right- Boris sort of halfway lives at the house now. Don’t tell dad. Well, I guess you can’t. Xandra would be more upset than Dad, doesn’t matter. Nevermind. So Boris basically lives here now. We don’t have a spare bedroom or another bed so he just stays with me. It’s not gay or anything._

_The first time I woke up in the middle of the night screaming it was embarrassing. Of course I woke him up- the screaming and all- he’s a much lighter sleeper than he lets on._

_So the first time- he just rolled over and pulled me into a hug. It was weird at first, I wanted to pull away from him, but it also wasn’t weird because it was Boris and it actually helped. I could feel my heart rate drop. The contact was comforting. So that’s how he calms me down. Sometimes he runs his fingers through my hair like you used to when I was scared. It’s really nice._

_Did I tell you about Boris’ dad? That’s kind of why he’s here. His dad beats the shit out of him. He’s really scary. Boris acts like it’s not a big deal but I can tell it bothers him… and not just the black eyes and nearly broken ribs. He’s the only family Boris has and he treats him like shit. Boris says I’m lucky that Dad isn’t like that, that I have a cool Dad, and I guess he’s right (not about Dad being cool, though, just me being lucky he doesn’t beat the shit out of me). So anyways, Boris’ dad is awful and he’s lived a very transient life with a lot of darkness. Somehow he’s always the most outwardly happy person- most of the time- always looking for the joy in things, always wanting to have a good time. That’s why the other night threw me for a loop._

_We were sleeping in my room, just like any other night. I had no nightmares. Before falling asleep Boris had wrapped an arm around me and held me so I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. He does this sometimes since it usually keeps the nightmares at bay- then we both sleep through the whole night undisturbed. Well, when I woke up in the morning I just felt the cold of the air conditioner but I heard heavy breathing. I rolled over to find Boris curled up in the corner where the bed met the wall. His face was red and it seemed like he was having a heart attack. He was clutching his chest, eyes shut tight and trying to slow his breath down to no avail._

_I wish you had been there, Mom. You would have known what to do. All I could do was what he had always done for me- I sat up, wrapped my arms around him, stroked through his black curls and told him it would be okay. I wasn’t all too convinced it would be okay but I said it anyways. As soon as I hugged him he latched on to me like a koala and buried his face in my neck, still trying to slow his breath. I tried to ask what was wrong but he wouldn’t- or maybe couldn’t- answer me. So we sat there like that until he could breathe again._

_We don’t usually talk after something like that but when he had recovered and explained to me he had had a panic attack, he took my cheeks in his hands and said, ‘You are good friend, Potter.’ And he kissed me on the forehead. That’s an Eastern European thing right? Again, it would have been weird, but it was Boris. The panic attack seemed more out of character for him than the kiss but nothing more was said about either._

_I can’t tell anyone about these things that happen, Mom. They’ll get the wrong idea. But they feel significant and I find myself wanting to tell someone- to tell you. And this is the only way I know how._

_I should go. If I don’t cook something soon Boris might kill me. And trust me, we don’t want him cooking anything- he’ll burn the house down._

_I love you so much._

_Theo_

_________________________________________

_December 21st_

_Mom,_

_How does Boris not think I’m boring? I’m the only person he hangs out with and sure we fight, but it’s always over some stupid fucking shit that doesn’t matter. Sometimes we hit each other a couple times, but we always get over it._

_So Boris has lived this crazy life and he’s only 15. He’s lived in like 10 countries, he’s lived on the street, he’s had all kinds of crazy friends- Mom! He’s ridden a camel! I’ve never even seen a camel except that one time at the zoo, but he was so sad. He’s seen an elephant, Mom! I had never even been outside of New York until Dad drug me out here. I’ve got to be the most boring person on the planet. The only interesting thing I’ve ever done… well, you know. But accidental art theft is hardly comparable to exploring the arctic tundra because you have nothing better to do._

_We come from such different worlds, him and I. I often imagine what it would have been like if we had met in New York, if you were still here (there) and it was the three of us instead of Boris and I with Dad and Xandra. But I can’t really place him in that world. He doesn’t fit. But he doesn’t fit here either, I guess. It’s weird because he doesn’t really fit anywhere- he’s really the most interesting person I’ve ever met- but at the same time he gets along with everyone he meets, that electric charm that you’re either born with or you’re not- he was born with it, Mom._

_I asked him once if he would want to go back to New York with me. We were really drunk- I’m sorry, Mom, it’s the best way to pass the time in the desert. School is boring and between the alcohol and Boris, the world becomes so much more interesting. Everything out here is so dead and he’s so alive._

_Anyways- we were really drunk. I flat out asked him, “If I went to New York tomorrow would you come with me?” He looked at me and laughed. It wasn’t a cruel laugh and his eyes were plainly saying ‘and what would I do in New York?’ And his eyes were right. What would he do in New York? The phrase ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ was invented for Boris. New York has an order- a chaotic order- but an order none the less._

_“New York is very bright star, Potter,” he still calls me Potter, “Is like different world. Like you in New York is like being in Space and me, here, is like Earth. Someone like me cannot get to space. Is impossible.” I wanted to cry when he said that, Mom. While I can’t imagine Boris in New York, I can’t imagine going home without him. He’s my best friend- my only friend. Maybe it’s scary for him to imagine leaving this weird comfortable life we’ve made for ourselves here, but we’d find our way just the same back home, wouldn’t we?_

_Help, Mom. Why do I feel like this?_

_I miss you._

_Theo_

________________________________________

December 20th

Mother,

My friend Potter writes letters to his mother. Might be therapy thing, not sure. So I write you letter as well. He does not know I have seen his letters. I will do better hiding mine. We share everything- most things. He is best friend. But also-

Sometimes I wonder what you would think of me if you had not died. Maybe am not so normal teenager. Potter and I drink- like you, like father- we get high, steal from store. We rarely eat full meals, mostly candy and scraps Potter’s step mom brings from work. Also, as I said, am not so normal. Mother- I think I love Theo. But how to know what even love is? Have not felt real love in so long is hard to tell. But there is feeling-

He is so sad. Never met someone so sad as him. Father and I meet all kinds of people since you died. People who have been in war, was friends with prostitute in Alaska, met a boy who had whole family die in earthquake- only one who survived! And even after all this, Potter is somehow most sad man I ever meet. His mother also dead- big explosion in New York.

Besides all this, I must love him. What else could feeling be? Indigestion? (Fancy word Potter uses, is joke.) I spend almost all of time with stupid blonde boy and even with all the ‘I want to die, Boris’ I still wish to spend more time and understand him more. His mind is complicated and I think a most beautiful thing. When he is thinking very hard or when I tease with him too far, little wrinkles appear between his eyes. I laugh at him but really it is cute. I want to make him laugh. Is that love? I want to be reason for his smile (a very rare thing). Is that love?

Why could you not love me enough to stay? To teach me what this feeling is? Maybe you would not anyhow because I like boys. (I like girls too. Mostly I like just Potter.) But did not even have chance to find out what you would think. Dad says “I love you, Borya” and he cries- always after drunk night, does not remember why he hit me, but sees bruises and tears for so long. I do not cry so much anymore. Potter takes care of me like mother would, like you would if were still alive?

I think I love him. Is that bad?

Boris


	2. Is Love Just Torment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last three letters.

_August 13th_

_Hey Mom,_

_I miss you so much. I’m really not equipped to exist in this world without you. I’m trying…_

_I could hardly breathe this morning. My heart was racing, my throat felt like it was closing- I puked my guts up. We got pretty fucking high last night, Boris and me. He’s asleep right now. It’s 5am. He won’t be up until at least noon. But last night was different, Mom._

_It was probably the hottest day since I moved here. It was 110 degrees. When we tried to see if swimming would help cool us down the water felt like it was nearly boiling. We went straight back inside. Dad and Xandra were gone- they are always gone. Especially lately. Sometimes they come home for a day or so, but then they are gone again. I prefer it that way._

_Anyways, it was too hot. The air conditioning wasn’t working properly, it hasn’t been for about a month and half, but it also hadn’t been this hot before yesterday. So we drank what was left of the cold beer from the fridge, took off everything but our underwear and laid out on the kitchen tile with Popper. I was pretty dizzy, which felt better than the heat because it made me forget about the heat. He reached up a hand to playfully hit me on the shoulder. “Look, Potter.” Popper had gotten up and climbed on top of Boris’ sunken in stomach and laid down. We both laughed until the vibration of our mirth drove Popper to a frustrated exit in search of a bed that wouldn’t move so much. He dropped his hand and it fell on top of mine. It wasn’t so out of the ordinary to start with- he’s definitely the most affectionate friend I’ve ever had, but I’m used to it. It’s been like this since the day I met him. But he curled his fingers around mine, Mom. My heart sped up and though my brain was telling me to pull my hand away, I just let him hold on._

_That’s how it started. It’s so weird. This probably isn’t even a big deal, right? Is this a big deal? I haven’t even told you yet. At some point we made our way to the living room, sitting on the floor leaning against the couch with only a few inches between us, some old black and white movie on the TV._

_I realized I was no longer watching the tv but watching Boris watch the tv instead. Is that weird? I think it’s because I was drunk… the way the light of the tv reflected in his eyes was more mesmerizing than the tv itself. His skin was a little shiny from the heat, the sweat making his curls stick to his forehead._

_He said something about the film, but when I didn’t respond he turned to look at me. For a moment we both just stared at each other. It was strange, him being so quiet- it made the moment last forever. Then- Mom, this is why I wish you were here. You would know what to do, how to help me figure out what is going on. Then he touched my face lightly, leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. I barely had time to register what happened before he pulled away. He brushed my hair back away from my face with his fingers and said, “I think I love you, Theo.”_

_I didn’t know how to respond. No one had said that to me since you. I sort of pretended I didn’t register what he had said and instead I kissed him again. It’s crazy right? Mom- what does it all mean? I feel so torn between what I think I should be and what I think I feel. Boris is a guy, but I think about him all the time. On the nights he stays at his dad’s house I actually miss him. But I don’t love Boris. He’s Boris. He’s my best friend, practically my brother. But when we kissed… Mom, I didn’t want to stop kissing him._

_This is just torment. Part of me wants to be with him all the time and the other part of me feels like I should be repulsed, but I’m not. I hate this feeling. I hate that I don’t understand what is going on inside me. I hate that you’re not here. I know I can’t talk to dad about any of this._

_Mom, why can’t you just be here?_

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_Theo_

_________________________________

_September 1st_

_Hi mom,_

_It’s slightly less hot now. I miss seasons. It’s always just scorching sun. School is okay—_

_Why am I telling you any of this? None of this even matters. The only thing that has any bearing on my life anymore is Boris. School is awful except for the classes we have together. And, I don’t want you to be disappointed in me, but we rarely go to school anyways. We mostly just drink and — well, get high on whatever Boris can get from the other kids from school or random pills we can steal from Xandra._

_I’m not the man you wanted me to be, Mom. I think you’d be so disappointed in me if you were here._

_God, this all fucking sucks so much. Like I said, Boris is the only silver lining on the dark cloud that is everything in my life. I’m— I’m pretty drunk right now. Boris is at Kotku’s so there was no fucking point in getting shit faced anyways, but I did it because that’s what we do, what I do I guess._

_He’s always with Kotku now. I bet he’s fucking her right now. Fuck- sorry mom. This is—_

_He got a girlfriend. Calls her Kotku. I don’t see him as much now and it’s fucking stupid but I miss him. Why do I miss him?? Like two week ago we were making out in our bed after smoking a joint together. We never talk about it. We always pretend nothing happened. But that night he said it again, Mom. He said I love you again. It’s like everything inside me was on fire. And when he said it, he looked so sad. Like he was waiting for me to say it back and his heart was breaking because I wasn’t. I didn’t say anything back._

_He stopped kissing me after that but he held me while we fell asleep- only I didn’t sleep that night. I just laid there thinking about how his arms felt around me, about why he would say he loved me and why I felt my heart tugging at my vocal cords to say something back but my head wouldn’t let the words form in my mouth._

_Two days after that he came to the house, threw himself on the couch and professed his love for Kotku, how she was the most wonderful girl in the world. I don’t know for sure, but I think I felt my heart break. He was full of shit, obviously, but he was moving on, moving forward without me. I wanted to say something then. I thought maybe if I told him how I felt, whatever I felt, then he would forget about Kotku. But I didn’t say anything and I didn’t see him for a week after that._

_What is the point of all of this, of living, if it’s all just pain? Were you in this much pain, Mom? You seemed so happy but was there all this other stuff going on? I bet your heart broke when dad left even though he was always shit to you. I hate this, Mom. Wherever you are, up there in the sky, with the stars and the moon, galaxies and universes- wherever you are must be better than this because you were good. You were everything good in the world, Mom. I just want back what we had._

_I’m gonna puke again._

_—_

_____________________________________

Hey God,

Is Boris. Don’t know if you remember me, have not talked in long time. Don’t really believe you are there but need to write down thoughts and Potter always addresses to mother but mother didn’t help last time. Maybe, if you are there, you will help somehow?

Last week had great love of my life around always. We drop acid together and share a trip. That is real love. Also, share secrets, share food, share money- share bed and home. What do I do when love is here and then is not? He is gone now, away back to New York. Took every drug, partied so hard, got very close with many girls and all my mind is Potter, Potter, Potter. But he is gone.

Many times he awakes in morning crying for mother, crying for bad dream he sees in sleep. I hold him, I touch his face, I tell him I love him, usually in different language. He freaks out when he understands, though he even pretends he does not in English. Some days now I wake up the same- crying like baby, like never have before. Feels like part of me is disappeared. Like someone took knife and cut down the middle. Did not know love would hurt this much.

Religions say you are love so why is so much torment? All the time in life I think what it must be to feel real love- amazing wonderful experience, yes? So I tell Potter because I think is what I feel. We spend all time together, we share whole life with the other- but he looks at me like I am crazy. Also we kiss all the time. We do things together we should do with girls, but only want with Theo.

Fuck this. Why am I writing this shit? Fucking Potter. Fuck this, fuck him. He left. I beg him to stay but he goes. Now I have only bird and stupid fucking memory.

I am done.

Fuck you.

Boris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you haven't check out the song this story is inspired by: Boy by Willow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it!   
> Please leave a comment if you like the story. :) Means the world to me!  
> Chapter 2 coming very soon.


End file.
